Thicker than Water
by Celtic Cross09
Summary: Angsty one-shot from Gaz’s POV. Rated R for language and subject matter.


Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim or the characters yada yada yada.

Rating: R for language and subject matter.

Thicker than Water

Sometimes I just can't believe it.

I just can't fucking believe it.

I can't believe you're here and I can't believe I'm here to see you.

After all, I've got a lot of shit left to do and here I am in this "waiting room".

It's depressing as hell to be here. There are people around; some of them are staring at me.

Some old people, some people around my age. Some people coughing, some people that look barely conscious.

But all of them look old, tired and dirty. It's disgusting here and I don't see how you stand it.

Dad definitely has to feel like shit whenever he comes here to visit.

That is, _if_ he ever comes here to visit.

You know how dad is; always wearing those dumbass goggles and gloves, afraid that he'll catch some new and unknown infectious disease at any time.

If there was ever a web for diseases to fly in to, this place would be it.

Well, for "mental" and "emotional" diseases, that is.

When we found out about what you were doing, I suggested a rehab. But Dad thought a Psycho-Ward would be better instead. Whatever.

So now Dad's working overtime to pay for the bills for this place. Now I never see him—not like we ever saw him much to begin with, right?

God, come to think of it….

We did see each other a lot growing up. In fact, you were the only "family" that I knew, but never really bothered to talk to.

That's because I knew that we didn't get along.

We are two very different people—yet we are a lot alike, even more so than I'll ever admit.

Sure, when we were younger you'd talk to me and run your mouth about Zim or some other paranormal bullshit, but I always ignored it.

Then as we got older we still saw each other quite a bit, since we were living in the same house.

We just didn't say anything.

And that's the way it stayed for years.

But one day I came home and I couldn't find you. That's when I went up to your room and found your letter. And after that I knew.

As much as the pain-in-the-ass as it was, I knew I needed to tell Dad so that you could get some help.

You came home the next day, and that's when Dad drove you to the Nut House.

I mean, shit—I knew you did some pot, like everybody in High Skool does at some point or another, but—I didn't know that you were doing some hardcore shit at the same time.

But anyways…

You're kinda lucky in some way to be here, you know?

I mean here instead of home.

Home is so _fucking_ depressing.

It was depressing with you there, and it's even more depressing with you gone.

Everything is so cold. And so quiet. Everything is dead.

I can't describe it, but it's like the halls are torturing me with its emptiness, its silence.

But whatever.

I know that we're all fucked up.

The only difference between you and me is that you are getting help for it.

Me…… I'm just pushing it aside. I guess I have to live with it.

"It" being my apathy and my disdain towards people.

Towards life.

Towards this world.

I really hate the world.

But what else is new?

"Gaz……?"

I looked up from the ground, hearing your weak yet familiar voice.

And there you were, standing a few feet away from me.

You look the same, still as pale and skinny as ever, dressed all in black.

I push myself up from the table, up from my seat and took a few steps forward.

I looked at you, trying to read your expression.

Your expression looks much like the other people here; tired, old and dirty.

"Hey," I said, trying to break our awkward silence.

Then I did something that I haven't done in ages. Something I don't ever remember doing.

I leaned up and hugged you.

I don't know what compelled me to do it, but you wrapped your arms around me tightly, holding on.

I didn't say anything wrapped in the embrace and neither did you, but we knew.

We knew that no matter how fucked up our lives were or how much we don't get along—

We're still the same blood.

And that was reason enough to care.


End file.
